Cheeky

Love it when little boys’ hairs stick up at the crown. Especially when said heads are accessorised with jauntily-angled “Dark Vater” masks.

Last night, la poocha Trivialista, Diggers, was spied across the architectural vanity exercise courtyard making himself at home on the female junior cost centre’s (JCC’s) bed while we dined beneath the dusty rafters. Diggers knows lounging on beds is strictly verboten in Palazzo Trivialista. Clearly, if he was a schnauzer, he would understand German better and Know His Place.

Took Dark and his fellow Triv loin fruit to dinner here, our new favourite local gaff. Know many of you may not be as fluent in googling Italiano as La, so will tell you it translates to “shade”.

Fab tucker, lovely service, and their antipasto selection is to die for. Always thought that a strange word — how could one possibly be “anti” any arrangement of cheese, cured pork, bread, olives, grilled capsicum and eggplant all schnuzzling up to one another, accompanied by vino? La’m all for it.

This was the post-repast carnage — trust me, this photo does not do the mess justice. We tipped big.

Have been getting about the Harbour City a bit of late. We all know it’s a foodie’s paradise, but La thought this sandwich filling, spied recently at Sonoma (home of the smaller, personalised boule), raised things to new heights of insanity.

All the world’s leading fashionistas will tell us we should take inspiration from our surroundings, so when I spotted this marblework at Westfield Bongo Junction’s new Tiffany…

Couple of significant events coming up for which silk tops (and Tiffany bling for that matter) could come in handy: 25-year high school reunion (egads — are los bones really that old? Kill me now!) and bi-annual Ladyfest trip Stateside with Brunswick Browser to visit Palisades resident and BrisVegas girl-done-good, Fancy Fowl. Our last catch-up was LAdyfest 2011 in Los Angeles and Palm Springs, which entailed much singing into hairbrushes and reminiscing about past frogs loves.

Thankfully on that trip, each of our husbandial specimens came up trumps vis-a-vis our past dalliances. Two years on I suspect little will have changed.

Unless, between now and then, Seriousimo curtails my Ladyfest shopping budget. Which could result in him being socked about the beefy cheek with a wanky sandwich.